


Moving in a still frame

by amusensical



Series: Forging a Bond [8]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Canon Compliant, It was all my fault, M/M, Possible Spoilers after Episode 115, Puppy Carter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28398489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusensical/pseuds/amusensical
Summary: Absolutely exhausted, hollowed out by adrenaline, incoherent with shame.
Relationships: Commander James Barnes/Howard Carter (Rusty Quill Gaming)
Series: Forging a Bond [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079369
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Moving in a still frame

The sun is fully above the horizon when the wagon arrives. Barnes jumps down, walks with his hand in the halter of the lead horse, around the back of what used to be the market. The gathering is almost silent, each mother, father, memaw breathless. Carter is visible head and shoulders at the far edge of the crowd. 

“Whoa,” croons Bes, and the horses stop, and the crowd flows forward around the wagon. The children sleep, still, and Bes steps to the back of the wagon, stooping and patting each bundle, scooping them up and tenderly handing them over the side, into open arms. There are soft cries of surprise, hushing, hushing, tears. 

Carter follows the families, stands next to Barnes. His eyes are red, face slack with fatigue, lips pressed together as he watches the reunion. Barnes grips his arm above the elbow, not his shoulder or back of the neck, lets go, doesn’t speak. Carter moves to the other side of the wagon, and waiting, quietly they rub the horses’ faces and necks, until the market is empty. Neither speaks as they walk the horses to the stable, men and horses drooping, taking each next step. A human and a halfling wait at the wide stable door, wait to take the horses until they are under the eaves. 

“You got them,” murmurs the halfling, solemnly, eyes shining. 

“We did,” says Carter, and a grin flickers. The human doesn’t speak, but smiles and nods. Barnes snags his pack from the back of the wagon, catches up with Carter, heading toward the outbuilding that serves as bathhouse and mess for the small encampment at the edge of the settlement. 

“Shower for me,” says Barnes, at the same time Carter says, “Food for me.” Carter looks up, Barnes glancing away. “See you,” says Carter. Inside the door, one goes left, one goes right. 

Breakfast is laid out, pastries, fruit, hot coffee. Carter fills a mug and a plate, sits at the end of a table where a half dozen soldiers are finishing, talking quietly, nodding to him as they get up. The muffins have raisins, and Carter eats two, puts one in his pack, takes his coffee to the bathhouse. Empty. Barnes apparently finished and left, skipping breakfast, leaving without a word. 

It is warm enough to put on just trousers and shirt after his shower. The weariness hits Carter as he walks the quarter mile to the tent they share at one edge of the grid. Two hours into the morning, everyone else is gone about the work of the day. A guard sits in the shade of a sun sail, their partner making the rounds, always two on watch. _One a caster_ , thinks Carter, wincing. 

The tent flaps are shut but not tied. Carter steps through, dropping his pack and the bundle of jacket, sheaths, and daggers into the corner on his side. He ties the flaps, knowing the guards will leave them to rest. He toes off his untied boots, turning, expecting to see Barnes lying asleep on the cot at the other side. 

He isn’t lying asleep. Barnes is sat on the edge of the cot, feet bare on the woven rug, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. In the stillness of the tent, his indrawn breath is almost a gasp, his exhale almost a sob. 

Carter is utterly undone. He sinks to his knees with a whimpering moan, collapses forward, arms outstretched, presses his forehead to the ground. The line of his lips breaks, where he has been pressing them together, and sorrow spills out. 

“Huh. Carter. Come.” Barnes’ voice is rough, but steady. Carter shifts to hands and knees, crawls, head down, blindly. When he bumps against Barnes’ legs he curls, arms wrapped around Barnes’ ankles, cheek against his bare feet. 

“M’sorry,” he mumbles, “So sorry. Left you.” 

“Oh. No, Carter, no.” Barnes reaches, grips Carter’s arm, tugs, but Carter curls harder, trembling. Barnes reaches, arms circling, pressing his face against the humped ridge of Carter’s back. 

“My fault. Told you. Told you to go.” 

Barnes feels Carter’s hitching breath, feels as much as hears him. “Thought you were gone. Killed.”

Barnes’ voice breaks then. “Oh, Carter, no. You saved me.” Barnes shifts his weight forward, enough to push the cot back and lower himself to the floor, tugging Carter’s arms from around his legs, pushing, weeping, until Carter’s head is tucked into Barnes’ chest, tightly curled together, weeping. 

Sleep overtakes them between breaths. In sleep, Barnes relaxes onto his back, Carter’s head on his chest, Carter’s arm, unclenched, across his belly. Midday, the sound of footsteps, and Barnes wakes enough to pull a pillow from the cot, half sitting to stuff it behind his head. Carter sits all the way up, rubs his eyes, sniffs. Looks at Barnes, who smiles, holds his arms out. Carter smiles back, lies back down on Barnes’ chest, legs stretched out. With a long sigh, he is asleep again, and Barnes folds his arms around him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Low” by R.E.M.
> 
> This was hard to write. Thank you [Desilite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desilite/pseuds/Desilite) for holding my hand in the sprints channel.
> 
> Barnes knows his pride put them in danger, that just when Carter has tapped back into his magic and his confidence, Barnes' mistake could have killed him, and might still send Carter back into depression. Carter's equilibrium is totally shaken and Barnes won't even look at him. Their despair wrung me out... but we all made it through.


End file.
